


I Bruise Easily

by Kendal_Lynne



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Language, M/M, Non-Graphic Descriptions of Violence, a little angsty, i tried to make it a little sexy idk, ian getting hurt :(, idk - Freeform, mickey being cute and protective :(, non-graphic descriptions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendal_Lynne/pseuds/Kendal_Lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian gets hurt a lot over the years. It affects Mickey more than he’d care to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Bruise Easily

**Author's Note:**

> Nonspecific timeline, but each number corresponds to the season of the show where it'd take place.

1.

Ian’s already outside by the time Mickey makes it to the Kash and Grab. He’s leaning against wall, smoking a cigarette with one foot propped up behind him. He might be able to pass for a badass in some alternative reality where he doesn’t look like some adorable redhead puppy dog—but whatever, it’s not important any way. 

Mickey forces his feet to slow down when he realizes seeing Ian made him automatically pick up his pace like some stupid fag. The rational part of his brain tries to reason that he’s just cold and wants to hurry up and get inside, but the other part knows better.

“Hey” he throws out curtly when he gets close enough.

Ian’s head whips up at the sound of his voice. 

“Oh, hey Mickey” he greets; a stupid fond grin spreads across his freckled cheeks.

But Mickey barely hears him. He’s too transfixed on the massive shiner that engulfs Ian’s right eye, marring his otherwise angelic face.

“The fuck happened to you?” Mickey blurts out before he can stop himself.

Ian’s grin drops in an instant.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Mickey motions to his own eye and lifts his eyebrow.

“Oh, right” Ian says, blushing with realization “I almost forgot.”

Then, to Mickey’s horror, Ian starts fussing with his bangs, like he’s fucking embarrassed for Mickey to see his busted up face.

“Hey man, that’s not…” Mickey starts, before realizing he’s not sure what he’s trying to say, “I mean, you look fine.” 

“Really?” Ian asks.

Mickey shrugs, a bit embarrassed he basically just complemented the kid. 

Ian grins again, passes his half-smoked cigarette to Mickey, who takes it automatically.

“Alright, no need to look so fucking pleased with yourself. All I meant was, if you’re trying to impress someone, I’m not the one to do it for. I’m pretty much a guarantee fuck at this point.”

“How romantic” Ian shoots back.

“Don’t say shit like that, man” Mickey tells him, exhaling smoke.

“Whatever, you’re the one coming to my place of work, telling me how fiiiine I look” Ian says, wiggling his eyebrows like he’s not a second away from being socked in the face. Again. 

“Jesus.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes and takes another drag of the cigarette. Ian’s cigarette. That he previously been in between his lips. 

Not that Mickey’s thinking about Ian’s lips. 

“To answer your question, it was Frank” Ian says after a moment.

There are things Mickey wants to ask. He wants to ask if Frank hit all his kids or if Ian is the exception. He wants to ask if Ian hit him back. He wants to ask if he’s ok.

But he doesn’t ask any of those things because he can’t let Ian think he fucking cares. 

Mickey takes another drag, before stomping the cigarette out on the cold concrete.

“So we gonna do this or what?” Mickey asks, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. 

Ian opens the door for him.

“After you” he says, grinning.

Mickey rolls his eyes, only this time he has to hide a smirk of his own as he walks inside.

Three days later, Mickey walks by the Alibi and sees Frank passed out on the sidewalk. Mickey may or may not, at the very last second, decide to deliver a swift kick to the older man’s groin. 

Just ‘cause he feels like it. 

 

2\. 

Days where Ian doesn’t work at the Kash and Grab at all are absolute torture, considering he was half the reason Mickey agrees to take the job in the first place. 

Most of the time it’s bearable because it’s slow enough that the two of them can fuck off to the back room whenever they get the inkling to get off. That’s definitely the best part of working in the shitty convenience store. The other parts aren’t so bad though. 

Mickey likes getting paid. Mickey likes not getting shit from his parole officer. And even though he’d never ever admit it out loud, Mickey also liked being around Ian. He liked watching him do homework and babble on about shit Mickey could care less about it. He liked looking at his stupid hair and the way his shoulders filled out his tshirts and how he scrunches up his nose when he gets stuck on a math problem. 

It should freak Mickey out more, probably, once he realizes these things about himself, but whatever—he likes the kid he’s fucking. It’s not like he’s in fucking love with him. They’re friends, sort of. Emphasis on the sort of. 

It’s not like it’s a fucking crime to not absolutely hate the guts of the person who sticks their dick in your ass on a regular basis. It’s just the result of conditional behavior or some shit.

Needless to say, the days Ian has ROTC training after school blow. 

Mickey manages to close up early and get to the dugouts before Ian. That sucks too, cause it means more waiting, but at least he can freely smoke to pass the time.

“Fucking finally” he says to himself when he catches sight of the redhead jogging towards him, still in uniform. 

“Hey, sorry. Training ran late” he says in greeting.

“Yeah, no fuck” Mickey says, stubbing out his cigarette. 

When Ian gets closer, Mickey spots an ugly purple bruise on his jaw.

“The fuck happened to your face?” he asks, almost reaching out to touch it before he catches himself.

Ian actually laughs, like the memory of getting hit in the face is funny or something.

“Me and Brian were practicing hand-to-hand combat and I got distracted,” Ian tells him.

“Hand-to-hand combat with a dude, huh? Hard to imagine what was distracting you” he says, itching to light up another cigarette.

Ian just smiles at him like he’s not listening to a word he’s saying, he’s just happy to have him talking to him at all.

So Mickey tries again.

“Ryan musta gotten a real good hit in for it to be bruising like that already. You sure it was an accident?” Mickey asks, his fingers starting to tingle at the thought of beating up some ROTC prick “Cause you just give me an address and I can jump this guy.” 

Ian laughs, as if the idea of Mickey beating someone up for him is just the most delightful song he’s ever heard. 

“His name is Brian, not Ryan. And there’s no need for that. He’s a friend, like I said. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Jesus, well concentrate harder next time, would ya?” Mickey says.

“Why…worried about me, Mick?” Ian teases.

“The only thing I’m worried about is you not being able to blow me properly, fire-crotch” Mickey says. He shoves Ian a little, mostly to prove a point and only a little because he’s tired of waiting for permission to touch him.

Ian laughs again as he experimentally opens and closes his mouth in an exaggerated manner, before clutching his jaw.

“Ow, yeah that’s definitely not on the menu tonight” he says before a glint appears in his eye “But I do know someone else who’s jaw happens to be in perfect working order.”

“You seriously offering to let me suck your dick, Gallagher?” Mickey asks, trying to sound put off by the idea and ignore his mouth that’s already watering at the thought of it. 

“Not offering, just…stating a fact,” Ian says, taking a seat on the bench and spreading his camo-clad pants in clear invitation.

“I’m pretty tired from training, you know?” he adds, folding his hands behind his head.

“Yeah, it must be exhausting rolling around on the grass with other buff dudes all afternoon” Mickey says offhandedly. 

“Jealous?” Ian asks. 

Mickey scoffs.

“Just stating a fact, asshole.” 

Ian keeps smirking at him like he knows all his secrets and it’s annoying as hell, but he also looks really hot in his camo, so Mickey drops to his knees and gets his mouth around Ian’s dick as soon as he can.

Ian doesn’t say much else but Mickey’s name for the rest of the night.

 

3\. 

Their new go-to spot is this old dilapidated building that Mickey used to run off to when he was a kid and Terry had too much to drink. 

He didn’t tell that Ian, of course. He had only said it was where he went when he needed to get away, and yet, it was like Ian knew what he meant from the look he got in his eyes.

It only made sense that Mickey would bring Ian into his safe haven, because Ian was the only person he ever felt truly safe with.

It also helped that the building was in the middle of nowhere and they could afford to be louder than usual when they fucked.

Mickey wasn’t crazy about being naked during sex. He wasn’t self-conscious, but he wasn’t particularly confident in his smaller, softer frame either. He liked wearing clothes, they reminded him of armor. As long as he left on his shirt or kept his jeans around his thighs, he could keep the illusion he wasn’t totally vulnerable. 

Ian was the opposite. It didn’t matter if they were in a freezer or up again a filthy brick wall—Ian Gallagher loved to be bare-ass naked whenever they fucked. It wasn’t incredibly convenient when they were on a time-crunch—then again, Mickey can’t say he hated the view either. 

But today, Ian losing his shirt caused him to furrow his brows when he spotted the yellow and green bruising on his ribs. 

Mickey grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer for a better look.

“The fuck happened here?” Mickey asks, swiping his thumb over the bruising briefly.

“Lip and I had a disagreement,” Ian tells him with a shrug, leaning into Mickey’s touch ever so gently.

Mickey raises his eyebrows in surprise. He may have thought that Lip was a prick, but Ian practically worshipped the ground he walked on. Even though they were brothers, the idea of them getting into a physical fight shocked the hell out of him.

“Disagreement? Bout what?” Mickey asks.

“The way he treats Mandy, mostly” Ian says. 

Mickey feels a spike of adrenaline at Ian’s words. Something about the idea of Ian fighting his own brother in Mandy’s honor has Mickey hot under his skin.

“Your brother’s a fucking prick,” Mickey tells him.

“Yeah, well, some people don’t know they’ve got a good thing till they’ve lost it” Ian says.

Mickey knows Ian’s trying to be a smart ass, but he ain’t gonna call him out on it this time. 

Instead, he squeezes Ian’s hips, bringing him just a little bit closer.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse” Ian says with a shrug “though I wouldn’t object to you kissing it better.”

Mickey knows the redhead is just teasing him, but he interprets it as a dare instead.

He quickly maneuvers Ian around by his hips until his back is against the wall.

Mickey glances at Ian’s face just quick enough to see the other boy’s eyes widen in surprise when Mickey drops to his knees and places soft pecks to the bruising on his ribs. 

A second later, Ian’s pulling him up by the shoulders and staring intently at Mickey’s mouth as he licks his lips.

They’ve only kissed once but it ignited something inside of both of them and Mickey has definitely hungered for more ever since. He knows Ian doesn’t want to make the first move after being rejected so many times and the struggle written on his face makes something inside Mickey ache.

He lifts up on tippy toes and slots his mouth over the Ian’s. He tries to make it less like their first kiss. There’s no urgency, no hesitancy, no fear. He doesn’t try to pull out of it the second it begins…okay, maybe he does, but then Ian’s wrapping his hands around his waist and keeping him anchored in place. 

But suddenly, it’s not enough. 

Mickey starts fussing with the hem of his tshirt until Ian gets the idea and helps him rip it off. 

Then they’re right back to kissing, bare flesh on bare flesh, and it’s better than anything he’s ever felt before.

And as each boy reaches for the other’s belt buckle, Mickey wonders why he ever kept his clothes on during sex with Ian to begin with.

 

4.

Mickey can’t sleep. 

Correction. He WAS sleeping until he woke up at 2:56am and realized Ian wasn’t in bed with him. Or in the bathroom. Or in the living room, kitchen, or basement of the Gallagher home.

He fired off a text as soon as he realized Ian wasn’t in the house, only to groan when he saw Ian’s cell on the kitchen counter, next to a note that read: “went for a run, go back to sleep.”

It only made Mickey feel a little better, for about ten seconds, before he started to get upset all over again…because 1) who the fuck goes for a run in the middle of the night without their cellphone? And 2) there was no way he was going to fall back asleep knowing that Ian wasn’t in his arms.

So it was now close to 3:30am and suffice to say, Mickey is still not sleeping.

He sighs in relief when he hears the front door open and hurries from the kitchen to investigate.

He comes to a screeching halt when he sees Ian slumped against the wall, his lip and eyebrow bloodied from an obvious attack. 

“I’m sorry” Ian whispers.

“What the fuck!” Mickey practically shout-whispers as he runs to Ian’s side.

“I’m sorry” Ian says again, groaning as he shifts his weight and clutches his stomach.

“Tell me who the fuck did this” Mickey demands.

“Two muggers came out of nowhere. They got pissed I didn’t have my wallet or phone on me.”

“Jesus, Ian, who the fuck leaves the house without their wallet or phone?” Mickey asks, cradling the younger boy’s head in his hands.

“I’m sorry” Ian whispers.

“Damn it, stop apologizing” Mickey says, leaning up to kiss Ian’s forehead, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was fucking worried.”

Ian knew better than to apologize again, so he settled for telling Mickey he loved him instead.

“I love you too,” Mickey tells him “Can you make it to the couch?”

“Yeah Mick” he says, allowing Mickey to help guide him to lie down.

“I’ll be right back,” Mickey says.

He makes sure the door before going to the freezer and grabbing some frozen peas, a damp paper towel, a pain killer and glass of water.

He sits down next to Ian and gives him the pain killer and water. 

“You can’t do shit like this, Ian. It’s not smart” he tells him “What if you got seriously injured and couldn’t get home?”

“I know, I fucked up” Ian sighs, closing his eyes.

“Then why did you in the first place?” Mickey asks, gingerly dabbing at the cuts on his face…luckily not deep enough to warrant bandages.

“I just felt like I had to” Ian says.

“Needed to get away from me that bad, huh?” Mickey tries to joke, but the insecurity in his voice overwhelms them both.

“You know it’s not about you” Ian says, apologetically.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Mickey tells him as he holds the frozen peas up to his lip.

“That’s not…I mean…I just HAD to, Mickey. Like a compulsion. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but...”

“It’s okay” Mickey whispers. 

It’s really not okay, but they both know that there’s something going on in Ian’s head that neither of them can explain, so for now Mickey has no choice but to try to accept it.

“But the next time you get the urge to do something like this, do us both a favor and wake up me, ok? So I can talk you out of it” Mickey tells him, moving the peas over to his swollen eyebrow.

“What if you can’t?”

“Then I’ll wrap myself around your legs like a fucking koala and force you stay” Mickey says.

“Mickey the koala” he giggles.

“Damn straight.” 

“You’re so cute” Ian sighs as he stretches out on the couch, covering Mickey’s hand with his to keep the peas on his eye.

“I am not” Mickey huffs, running his fingers through Ian’s hair.

“Are too. And I love you a lot” Ian says before pursing his lips, clearly asking for a kiss. 

“Hell no, you’re not getting a reward for calling me cute” Mickey tells him.

Mickey lays himself down on the couch next to Ian in the narrow space, curling up against him.

Ian makes a little whiny noise and purses his lips into a full pucker, relentless.

“Fucking menace” Mickey grumbles, tilting his head up to kiss him softly on the lips. He pulls away, only to place equally soft kisses on the new bruises forming on his face, “I hate seeing you hurt more than anything in the world. Always have.”

“I know the feeling” Ian whispers.

Mickey sits up briefly to grab the heavy blanket at the end of the couch. He throws it over their bodies, taking extra time to tuck the ends around the curves of Ian’s body.

“You good?” Mickey asks.

Ian nods, his eyes drooping.

“Tired” he tells him. 

“Yeah, I know” Mickey says. 

He takes the bag of peas and tosses them on the floor, before curling up against Ian and pressing his face into the other boy’s neck.

“But happy” Ian says, his lips brushing against Mickey’s hair “You make me so happy.”

Their hands find each other’s bodies, fingers curling around cotton and bare flesh, pulling themselves impossibly closer to the other.

“You make me happy too” Mickey tells him “You’d make me even happier if you stopped getting hurt so much.”

Ian smiles, eyes still closed.

“Got you to keep me safe now, don’t I?”

Mickey's arms tighten around the other boy ever so slightly.

“Damn straight, Gallagher.”


End file.
